


Breathe

by Meraad



Series: The Many Adventures of Aella and Thom [10]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8151605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraad/pseuds/Meraad
Summary: Post-Trespasser - Aella Adaar tries to cope with the events of Trespasser.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is un-beta-ed. Be forewarned. There are probably still a number of grammatical/spelling/continuity errors. I haven't written much at all over the last many, many months.

Aella didn't remember walking back through the Eluvian after her encounter with Solas. She remembered Thom's face – the horrified shock written across his features. He caught her when her legs gave out. The rest was a haze. Words she couldn't quite grasp. She understood the words separately, but not within the disjointed sentences she overheard. Faces blurred in and out of focus. Iron Bull, Dorian, Varric. Then Leliana. But mostly Thom. She wanted to reassure him. Aella could see the fear in his eyes. She was cleaned up, dressed in formal attire and then before she'd had time to fully process everything that had happened she was shoved into the Exalted Council meeting once more where she disbanded the Inquisition. 

It felt dream-like to her. Aella said her piece, then without waiting for a response she walked out. Ignoring everyone calling after her. She only made it two steps into her room before she fell to her knees. Aella threw her arms out to catch herself. She fell hard onto her left side, no hand there to catch the weight. The anchor was gone. Solas had saved her. But if he had his way, it wouldn't be long before he destroyed their world. 

Aella couldn't breathe. There was a weight on her chest and her throat was closing up. What had been the point of it all then? She'd done so much, sacrificed so much of herself to save a world that Solas would see razed. Strong hands cupped her face.

Strong hands that she knew. Calloused and still so gentle. Strong hands that she had held and touched, and had in turn held and touched her. “Breathe, Love.”

Aella blinked, bringing Thom's face into focus. The beautiful face of the man she loved more than anything. “Thom,” her voice broke.

“Shh,” he pressed his lips to the top of her head before pulling her into his chest where he held her. Arms banding around her tightly. “I have you,” he said. Then a gruff whisper against her temple, “never letting you go again.” 

Breath hitching, she clung to him. She began to sob. Her arm was gone, she wasn't whole. Solas would see them all dead. Aella wasn't sure how long they sat on the floor, her sprawled across his lap while he whispered quiet, loving words in her ear and stroked his hands through the cascade of white hair he had at some point released from the tight knot she wore. 

“Come, now, you need to rest in a proper bed.” Thom got her to her feet and she sunk down on the edge of the bed. When he began to move away from the bed, panic exploded inside of Aella's chest. 

“Don't leave!” her voice was broken and raw and she hated how weak she sounded. Aella had tried so hard to be strong, first for her parents, then when she'd joined up with the Valo-Kas and finally, while leading the Inquisition. 

Thom took her face between his hands, tipped her head back and stared into her pale gray eyes. “Aella Adaar, the only woman I have ever truly loved. Nothing in this world, or the next, could keep me away from you. I will never leave you again.”

She blinked, felt the tears roll down her cheeks and catch on his palms. No judgment. He had accepted her exactly as she was, as she had accepted him. Deceptions and all. He pressed his lips to her forehead, then brushed a light kiss against her mouth before stepping away again. This time she curled her hand into a fist in her lap, struggling with the desperate need to hold him and not let go. Aella watched him walk to the small basin of water, grab a clean washcloth and dunk it in before wringing it out. He crossed back to her and with gentle hands, wiped away the tears and the sweat before tossing it back toward the basin. Then he helped her strip out of her formal clothing. Taking a moment to press a soft kiss to her shoulder, over her heart, the inside of her wrist. Thom dressed her in the over-sized button down shirt she preferred to sleep in, then drew the blankets back. 

He stripped quickly, then dimmed the light before climbing into the bed beside her. He leaned against the mountain of pillows propped against the fanciful headboard and tugged Aella into his side. They had long ago mastered the best ways to lay together, to accommodate her horns and his smaller stature. Aella's cheek lay against Thom's shoulder, her broken horn resting against the pillow behind him. 

She rested her right hand over his heart, felt the steady beat. Listened to his breathing. Relaxed beneath his strong fingers. Along the curve of her horn, down her neck, over her shoulder. “You haven't said anything about it,” Aella murmured, voice slightly rough from her earlier tears.

“About what?” Thom asked, hand pausing against her horn. 

“My hand.”

“It was killing you.” he said, his voice calm, quiet.

“I only have one hand.”

“You have more than that,” he told her and she let out a derisive sound. “You have mine. You'll always have mine. Sera's, Dorian's. Cassandra's and Varric's.”

“Damn it, Thom. That isn't what I'm talking about and you know it.” Aella jerked up and away from him, barely missing butting him in the jaw with her horn. 

Thom moved fast, rose to his knees and grasped her by her upper arms. “What do you want? Do you want me to be angry? Do you want me to think less of you now? I've seen you cast brilliant spells and barely lift a finger to do it. I didn't fall in love with your hand, or what it could do to save the world. It was killing you and by the Maker, if Solas hadn't done it, I would have.”

Aella blinked up at him, surprised and touched and mildly concerned. “You would have chopped off my hand?”

He scowled. “It crossed my mind,” came his gruff reply. 

“Just like that? Pulled out your sword and -” she made a whooshing sound. “Crunch.” 

“You're a brat.” He released her arms, sunk back against the pillows and glared at her. 

A momentary lightness filled her as she watched him cross his arms over his chest and try to stay annoyed with her. “I'm fairly certain you did fall in love with my hands and what they could do, first.” She skimmed her hand over his bare thigh, felt the course hair beneath her palm.

The next thing she knew, he had her pinned beneath him and had settled between her thighs. “Wench.”

“My love, my Thom. I couldn't have asked for a better man.” She cupped his face, felt the ache of wanting to hold his face between her palms. How long would it take before she stopped reacting like she had two hands? How long until she stopped feeling the burning pain of a hand that was no longer there? Thom turned his face into her palm, pressed his lips to it. “I wanted a family with you, children. Beautiful little ones who would love their Papa so much.”

His brow furrowed, they had never spoken much of their future, of what their life together would hold, aside from it being together. “Then we'll have children. I heard about Varric's little joke on Cassandra. About us marrying. I had always intended, I wanted to deserve you first. Be worthy of you.”

“Thom-”

“No, let me finish. We overcame so much. You, overcame so much when it came to me. You saved me in so many ways. Gave me something to live for, instead of just waiting for the end. I want to marry you, have you for my wife, and have a whole brood of babies that look just like their Mama.”

A tear rolled down Aella's temple and into her hair. “I want that. I'll be your wife. But children-” she shook her head. “Solas-”

“You'll stop him,” Thom said without a hint of doubt. “You will. I have seen you, I know how you work. You'll stop him. We'll stop him.” He dropped a kiss against her lips. “Should we get married before everyone goes their separate ways?”

“I don't think Cassandra would forgive me otherwise.”

Thom stretched out beside her, gathered her into his side once again and they lay there in the dim room in silence. Aella knew there was so much more coming. Trying to stop Solas, while trying to come to terms with what she could and could not do without her hand. She wanted that brood and she would do anything it took to have them and keep them safe.

**Author's Note:**

> When I started this I had big plans for having Aella coming to terms with losing her arm - it was going to be depressing and angst-filled(as I myself was depressed an angst-filled). But then I didn't work on it for about a month after I wrote the first bit, and suddenly it wasn't so depressing and I didn't touch on most of what I had intended. It turned into sappy fluff and I'm okay with that.


End file.
